


Off Guard

by mangochi



Series: Recalibrating [10]
Category: Almost Human
Genre: Fluff, Hiccups, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1463884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangochi/pseuds/mangochi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has the hiccups, and Dorian unexpectedly helps out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off Guard

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look I'm not dead.

John puts the initial tickle in his throat down to the beginnings of a cold he’s been warily nursing for three days, and he drinks an extra cup of coffee to soothe the irritation. 

The itch inevitably returns as he’s picking Dorian up from Rudy’s, just pulling onto the ramp to the freeway. The windows are cracked down an inch to let in the warm spring air, and he can feel the wind ruffling the top of his head.His throat sticks when he swallows and he clears it absently, wishing he hadn’t knocked back the rest of the coffee already.

Seconds later, he’s turning his head to tell Dorian to change the station when the first hiccup erupts out of him with shocking violence.

He doesn’t know who’s more surprised by the noise, him or Dorian. A few seconds pass and he begins to hope that it’s somehow gone unnoticed, but then the second hiccup comes, catching him off guard and jerking his torso in the seat as he tries to recover.

"You all right?" Dorian asks, with the air of someone desperately trying not to laugh, but when John glances over suspiciously, the android’s face is carefully blank as he stares out the windshield. 

"Fine," John says tersely. He expects the next hiccup before it comes and manages to suppress it to a silent shudder. "Shit," he mutters, hunching his shoulders forward over the steering wheel like it’ll help contain it.

"Hey, don’t hold it in. It’s bad for you." Definitely trying not to laugh.

John scowls and sucks in a careful breath, holding it in until his lungs start to strain. It’s an old trick that’s always worked since he was a kid, but for no other reason than some sort of twisted karma at work, it doesn’t work now and the third hiccup is loud and clear.

"Dammit!" he snaps peevishly.

Dorian’s not even bothering to hide his grin now, his white teeth glinting in John’s peripherals as he squints determinedly at the road. “It’s cute, man, really.”

“ _Cute_ -” John splutters. “The hell it’s-” He’s instantly mortified at the sound that cuts off the rest of his words, and Dorian bursts out into his weird chuckling, like a conglomeration of other people’s laughter jammed together. 

"Stop laughing," John grumbles.

"Hic!" Dorian imitates, mangling it terribly. "Hic!"

"I  _will_ turn this car around,” John threatens, feeling his blood pressure mounting.

"Hey." Dorian’s voice is suddenly serious, and John tenses warily. "Seriously, John, look over here."

John resists the urge to ignore him out of sheer pettiness and turns his head reluctantly. 

The kiss takes him completely and utterly by surprise, dry lips pressed lightly to the corner of his mouth, the tiniest of exhales against his skin-the car careens sharply into the next lane before John regains his senses and wrenches away, spinning the wheel with a panicked curse.

“ _What the-_ ”

"Wait for it," Dorian says calmly, settling back into his seat with a nonchalance that does nothing for his odds of being tossed into oncoming traffic. 

John opens his mouth aggressively, completely outraged and the tiniest bit shaken, then pauses, eyebrows twitching down in growing bewilderment.

The hiccups are gone.

He blinks a couple of times, takes a couple of experimental breaths. Beside him, Dorian’s humming tunelessly, glancing at John intermittently with a small smile.

"Huh," John finally says. His mouth feels hot, and he’s looking anywhere but at his partner.

"You can thank me later," Dorian tells him kindly, reaching over and giving him a singular pat on the knee.

"I," John tries, then falters. "Yeah."

"You’re welcome," Dorian adds, seemingly unable to help himself.

"I thought you said later."

"I meant now." Dorian looks at him, eyebrows raised plaintively, and John thinks it’s sort of sad that he can recognize that expression even without looking. "Positive response builds my self-confidence."

"Believe me, or something that came in a bottle, your ego’s built up just fine."

"But you liked it."

"Did not." It’s a knee-jerk reaction now, and John sets his jaw doggedly. 

"You liked it," Dorian says again, after a short pause. 

John doesn’t know what to say, so he settles for disgruntled silence instead, ignoring the thoughtful sound from Dorian’s direction. 

The hiccups come back later, but somehow, John doesn’t mind so much anymore.


End file.
